Preschool is the hardest level for me to teach.

I love the exploration and excitement that comes with this stage.

I miss naptime! My kids all relinquished naps at the ripe age of two. Nooooooo!

It never occurred to me to not have my tots and preschoolers “do school.” They begged to have their own schoolwork and, if left to their own devices, wreaked utter havoc on the house. I’ve had friends who didn’t encourage their preschoolers to do much of anything, and, well, it shows.

Thank God for blogs. They helped me survive those preschool years (and still going strong for Alex, sort of), and now I feel like a preschool pro. Sort of.

But I love teaching older kids. It is what I went to college for, more by default, but still. I could wax philosophic about literature and history all the livelong day. I have a bachelor’s in English literature and a master’s in secondary education.

The problem with preschoolers?

They. are. so. demanding.

You can’t tell them to just go read or play alone for a few minutes like with older kids. They need constant attention. (so do teens for that matter)

It wears on my ever last nerve.

The constant “Mama! Mama! Mama!” The never-getting-to-use-the-bathroom-alone thing.

It wears me down.

I loathe pushing swings. My mind wanders to all the “more important” (read: selfish) things I could be doing.

I know I am selfish. I loathe myself for being selfish.

No one sees when I cry out to God: “Increase You and decrease me. Let me shine for You. Help me to overcome myself.”

I can only run to my Father for comfort and snivel and whine and be a big brat about my own kids who are only being children, themselves, hungry and tired and needing a hug.

I don’t really want them to grow up so fast.

I can barely remember when Elizabeth was a preschooler and all of a sudden, she’s 12 and doing high school work already!

Tori and Kate look half grown and to hear them talk, they already know everything. And Alex doesn’t want to be 3 anymore. He wants to grow quickly so he can drive monster trucks.

I want to make memories with my babies. I want them to remember their childhoods fondly and grow in their relationship with me and their dad, God, and each other. This is, after all, why we are homeschooling.

I want to calm down and sit and watch my son play with his trains. I want to snuggle on the sofa and listen to Tori read – without pressure or tears or correction. I want to let Kate have an improv jam session on the keyboard and guitar without wanting to scream. I want to thoughtfully answer Liz’s never-ending questions about everything without impatience. I don’t want to lose them or their hearts. I want them to still want to ask me questions or say, “Look at me, Mom!” when they’re 15, 20, 30 years old.

The benefit and drawback to having preschoolers with older siblings is that they are constantly challenged. I am amazed at how much they can do and understand. I am too content to let them follow along in the older sibs’ footsteps. With this whole delight-driven schooling thing, I too easily let tot school and preschool fall between the cracks. Is it detrimental to their formative years and early education? Maybe.

Comparison is the thief of joy.

I could waste days beating myself up over how great those preschool blogs and Pinterest pins are while my son just wants to do math and science and writing and art with his sisters instead of putting pipe cleaners into the holes of an empty cheese container.  My favorite is the argument over how he needs the same advanced apps on his iPad mini as his sisters. Sometimes I feel superfluous and other times like there’s not enough of me to go around. But often, the chores get done more quickly with teamwork!

So, I envy all you Pinterest preschool mamas with your messy crafts and darling handmade Montessori toys. I’m up in here having guilt trips while scraping Nutella out of our dining room bench crevices and scouring the art paint out of drinking cups.